


Angel Kissed

by WritesEveryBlueMoon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel's Kisses Give Freckles, First Kiss, Fluff, Footnotes, God Ships Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Matchmaking, Mutual Pining, Never again, No beta we fall like Crowley, Post-Canon, Rated T because there is one vaguely inappropriate sentence and the author is paranoid, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, good titles? haven't heard of her, passionately requited love, ridiculously soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23354692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritesEveryBlueMoon/pseuds/WritesEveryBlueMoon
Summary: God is a being of infinite patience, which she has relied upon throught the ups and downs of the Earth and, more importantly, Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship. However, God is also omnipotent, and has decided that sometimes you need to borrow from some human ideas to give things a nudge in the right direction.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 209





	Angel Kissed

**Author's Note:**

> There is so much fluff in this. It's been several months since I wrote it, and I'd forgotten just how ridiculously soft it is. All mistakes are my own, hope you enjoy!

God, being the divine creator of the universe, and complete perfection by nature of her existence, was an incredibly patient being.

However, over a lengthy period of time, say, six thousand years, even the patience of complete perfection begins to reach its limit.

Now, an imperative thing to understand about God, is that for all the details of The Ineffable Plan scattered around on post-it notes, a lot of the time she has no idea _what_ her creations are thinking.

There are many examples of this, like that ridiculous affair with the Tower of Babel, the insane events which had led to Jesus being born in a stable, and whoever decided it was a good idea to wear massive toxic wigs on their heads. Then of course there was Aziraphale and Crowley.

It all began back at, well, the beginning. Or as much of a beginning as there can be for an ineffable, omnipresent being.

It had not been a good day for God. The humans she had created had begun to go through the rebellious age which she had tried to prevent from existing, and deliberately disobeyed her excruciatingly clear, simple instructions. And the demon Crawly was the one behind it all. Logically she should have been furious with him, but the bugger had to go and do the one thing no living being in existence, including herself1, would expect.

1 _In an omnipotent, ineffable way of course_

He went and fraternised with an angel.

For all her omniscience, God had no idea what prompted Crawly to socialise with the enemy. Perhaps, even then, he did not view the two as polar opposites of each other, but rather as powerful entities playing their role in something so great, it was beyond comprehension. Or he was just bored and wanted to wind up an angel. Maybe it was some inconceivable mix of both.

All we can truly know is that Crawly left the conversation with a new view on angels, because how could a being that mindlessly obeyed some higher deity give away a flaming sword gifted by Heaven2? Aziraphale was left confused about demons, because how could a being that existed for the sake of evil be reassuring? For her part, God was hastily editing the Ineffable Plan to include a romance that was clearly going to develop quickly, gleeful because _what fun_ it was going to be to see another two of her beings happily pair together.

2 _To her credit, God did notice that one, but no other celestial beings seemed to like the humans, so really it was only fair they had_ somebody _on their side_

Two thousand years later, she was still waiting. Which was fine. For immortal entities, two thousand years was a short time. But that didn't matter, she was sure this flood she'd commandeered would bring them together. She was practically quivering with excitement at the idea of the two hiding together in close, cold quarters, having only each other for warmth.

Unfortunately, like many of God's plans, it went as well as the evolution of the platypus3.

3 _Another grand, attempted plan gone wrong_

It was hardly her fault, who on earth could have imagined that Crawly would just take a vacation, tour the stars, and return, still infuriatingly single. All while Aziraphale miracled wine when he thought no one was looking, wanting to throw that duck that kept following him around overboard4. But that was fine. Every relationship faced its hurdles in getting to that first date, but once they got there it would all run smoothly. It was ineffable.

4 _The creature which flew to find land was originally intended to be a duck, but Aziraphale 'accidentally' lost the duck at sea, so a dove was used as a substitute. Aziraphale originally felt guilty about the former, only to exit the Ark and find the blasted creature had learned to float on water_

Four thousand years after the beginning, and God's control of her patience was beginning to slip. Millions of human couples had meaningless lives and marriages, birthed some children, and the cycle continued. How could Aziraphale and Crowley, as he was calling himself now, not have gone on a single date?! They had met in Greece! How could they have met in _Greece_ , and not picked up on the sexual tension between each other?! But it was fine. God was omnipatient, she had the ability to wait for these idiots to get together. With another few centuries, she was sure they'd come to accept the ineffable.

Another two thousand years passed, and God officially had officially thrown omnipatience out of the theoretical window. She had tried _everything_. She had thrown Aziraphale in danger more times than she could count, hoping Crowley would rescue him and they would finally unite. Nothing. She had urged Crowley on in his quest for Holy Water, hoping Aziraphale would be alarmed and confess his feelings to the demon. Nothing. She trashed the Original Armageddon, chucked Heaven and Hell out of the picture. _Still nothing!_

Now, the important thing to understand about God's dilemma is how infuriating reading minds is. God had to put up with millions of pointless, disturbing, idiotic, confusing, and horny thoughts every second, and a shocking amount of the latter come from Aziraphale, about that notably sexy demon we all know and love. She wasn't even going to get started on Crowley's thoughts, but at least they were expected.

Aziraphale on the other hand, was so constantly thinking about Crowley that out of context, one might assume they were newlyweds. Yet, the angel seemed determined to keep his relationship with the demon eternally the same.

Which was why God decided it was imperative that she interposed. She had waited, but one could only doodle wedding ideas for ethereal beings for so long. It was time for some Divine Intervention. By the end of the week, Crowley would be smothered in angel's kisses, and not in the freckled way humans meant it.

Though there was an idea. After all, with stubborn idiots, subtlety was not key. Quite the opposite in fact. Of course Crowley could not gain a freckle every time Aziraphale kissed him, because that plan would leave everyone waiting until the end of time5. However, as we established, Aziraphale may act like a proper regency gentleman, but his thoughts were quite the opposite. Perhaps all it would just take a few freckles to make his daydreams a reality…

5 _Probably longer_

Yes, God liked this plan very much indeed.

It had been quite an exhausting day for Aziraphale. Britain was in the midst of a heat wave, and the increase in customers was appalling. Three people had attempted to buy books, one woman had even expressed an interest in returning again, and, at the worst point, excitedly informed him that she would tell all her friends. It had taken multiple miracles to convince her she had the wrong shop, and he was fairly sure his heart hadn't returned to regulated beating for a full day even after she had left.

But, he excitedly noted with a glance at the clock, all would be worthwhile when Crowley strolled through the door for their planned date at a little rooftop restaurant Aziraphale had read about on his internet. Well, not a date (not that he would be _opposed_ to a date), but a social interaction between best friends. Which was what they were after all. And if this specific restaurant had a reputation for romantic atmosphere, and apparently was a popular place for proposals, then God willing, Crowley would hopefully not pick up on it6.

6 _God would will no such thing_

A small chime of the door, followed by the kind of cavalier footsteps which could only come with careless sauntering, alerted Aziraphale to the presence of the demon himself.

"Ah, perfect timing!" he said, popping up from under the table where he had been hiding his books, to find Crowley giving him a look which was normally reserved for when Aziraphale performed a magic trick.

"What on Earth are you doing?"

"I'm putting my most beautiful editions out of sight. It's clear that they are attracting customers, and I don't want to give the wrong impression."

"That you're actually a Bookshop, you mean."

"Exactly." Aziraphale gave a cheerful smile, "Now, just let me get my coat, and maybe my hat, it's clear you have been catching the sun," he gestured to Crowley's speckled face and collarbone.

"Yeah, I don't know what's going on with that." Crowley shrugged grumpily.

"You know, my dear boy, if they really bother you, I'm sure I can miracle them away"

"I've already tried that!"

"Oh come now, I'm sure the weather just brought more without you noticing."

"I'm not an idiot Aziraphale!7

7 _This was debatable_

I know when a miracle hasn't worked!"

"Oh my dear boy," Aziraphale walked over to Crowley with a smug look on his face, giving Crowley's jacket lapels a quick straighten for good measure, "Leave it to me."

He snapped his fingers with an upwards motion, and waited. A minute passed and nothing happened. He snapped again, after all the system could sometimes get a bit logged, and this was an emergency. Still nothing happened. A smirk was beginning to form on Crowley's face - oh lord, was he going to be proven right? - and after a few more clicks on Aziraphale's part, had become an outright grin. Finally, with a huff, Aziraphale admitted defeat.

"Quite the unusual condition you have there," he said sullenly, "perhaps you have been blessed by God."

Any humiliation Aziraphale had suffered in the last twenty minutes was well made up for by the look of disgusted horror on Crowley's face.

"Now come," he said primly, "we don't want to miss our reservation."

Expectedly, they did not miss their reservation. During their dinner, they were witness to fifteen kisses, eight proposals, a wedding that happened to be going on in the middle of the night on the next building over, and a young couple being very enthusiastic behind closed curtains directly across from their table. It was, as one baffled waiter explained to the cook, more romance than their restaurant had ever seen, and God knew why it was all happening that night.

Having eaten his fill, Aziraphale found his mind wandering to the enamoured young couple across the street, and began wondering what it would be like if he and Crowley ever tried that.

"Hey look," Crowley absent-mindedly gestured to a group of freckles on his wrist, "I just got more."

"Maybe you're subconsciously willing them into existence dear," Aziraphale said dismissively, opening the dessert menu again to order a second cake.

The next week the heatwave was over, and things drastically improved for Aziraphale. With the vigorous rain, he had only had one customer all week, who had no desire for anything but warmth, which Aziraphale was delighted to provide.

The lack of customers also gave him a chance to reread some of his old favourites; he hadn't read The Tale of Two Lovers since 1683, and the premise felt familiar to him for some reason. He was deeply engrossed in the story when Crowley burst in with such a panic that Aziraphale was briefly certain Heaven and Hell were after them again.

"Angel, you have to help me!" Crowley declared breathlessly, voice still laced with panic.

"My dear, what's wrong?!"

"Look!" Crowley hastily pulled off his jacket, scarf, shirt, and even glasses, showing Aziraphale more freckles than had ever appeared on any human. This may have left a trace of an impact on Aziraphale, had he not been so distracted by the image of Crowley tearing his clothes off.

"Oh my god," Crowley said, paling as more freckles appeared in his palm, "there's more! Angel, you read books, what the fuck is going on?!"

Though the freckles were not enough to distract Aziraphale from his dirty daydream, the desperation in Crowley's voice was. Pushing his copy of The Tale of Two Lovers aside, he got up from his chair and began to inspect the freckles littered across Crowley's skin.

As he tenderly ran his hand along Crowley's bare skin, he murmured, "My dear boy, I'm afraid I have no idea…", and to his credit, he was trying to focus, but Crowley was so warm, and he had only ever imagined being this close to him before, and it was difficult to think about anything else.

"For God's sake, I'm gonna end up looking like a leopard at this rate…"

A terrifying thought entered Aziraphale's mind, leaving him feeling like he had been thrown into a bucket of ice. Surely that couldn't be… It was impossible… Crowley's strange freckle condition had nothing to do with _that_ …

Well there was an easy way to test his theory and prove himself wrong. He closed his eyes and let his mind run away unrestricted. He imagined kissing Crowley, pulling him close and revelling in his warmth. He imagined them hiding each other like lovers did, whispering sweet nothings as the sun rose and set, with them remaining safe in each others arms.

"Angel…" a dazed voice interrupted his thoughts, " _What are you doing_?"

Aziraphale opened his eyes to find Crowley's cheeks flooded with freckles, a look of concern on the demon's face.

"Oh fuck."

A look of complete thrill briefly crossed Crowley's face, before being replaced by a look of complete terror.

"Aziraphale… what's going on… ?"

This was _not_ how Aziraphale had planned to confess his feelings. Ideally, it would have stayed in his daydreams, leaving him free from the pressure of actually taking part in a relationship, or worse, being rejected because Crowley didn't feel the same way towards him.

But he didn't want to leave his beloved concerned, and he certainly didn't want the freckles to keep appearing. So it looked like there was only one thing left to do.

"I think…" Aziraphale sighed and closed his eyes, "I think your new freckles might be linked to my thoughts."

"Okay…" Crowley sounded weary, confused, and a bit scared8, "what have you been thinking, Angel?"

8 _Had Aziraphale been better at picking up hints, he may have realised that the fear was not fear of Aziraphale, but rather fear that Aziraphale was having regrets about his decision to stay with Crowley. Unfortunately, Aziraphale was as good at reading body language as he was selling books_

Aziraphale sighed, and decided that quoting a six hundred year old book was as good a way to confess one's love as any other.

"Amor vincit omnia et nos cedamus amori." he said simply, looking Crowley directly in the eyes, and taking the time to appreciate just how beautiful they were, how wonderfully unlike any angel, or for that matter, how wonderfully unlike any angel Crowley was.

"Is that… Latin?" the demon said slowly, "Aziraphale, what are you trying to say?"

Aziraphale considered being cryptic, but well… in for a penny, in for a pound.

"I love you."

He watched as the words hit Crowley, and the demon stared for a minute before making a series of noises that may have been attempts to form words, but got lost on the way to his mouth.

"And it doesn't have to change anything, and I really didn't intend to tell you this way, but I hope you understand… "

"Aziraphale."

"And it is love, I know it's love, for years I haven't been able to think of anything but you… I tried to forget you but that night at the church…"

"Aziraphale, I love you too."

Aziraphale stopped mid-spiel, mouth an O of surprise.

"I… Well… jolly good then…" he stammered.

Slowly, Crowley stepped forward, reaching out and gently brushing a curl behind Aziraphale's ear. He inched loser, closing the distance between them a centimetre at a time, inviting Aziraphale to do what he had been dreaming of for decades.

And everyone knows it's bad manners to reject an invitation.

He leaned forward and pushed his lips against Crowley's, drawn into the warmth of his gentle embrace. Rejoicing in the reality of their kiss, how it was a thousand daydreams and more, thrown into a single lock of passion.

Eventually Aziraphale pulled away, breathless.

"Wow…"

"Yeah."

"I'm fucking freezing."

"You should stay here… Warm up a bit?" Aziraphale suggested.

"Depends… did you ever actually get a bed?" Crowley joked.

"Of course." Aziraphale lied, praying that the unused room upstairs would miraculously gain a bed 9.

9 _Now, that prayer was answered faster than all other Pending Prayers of the universe_

That is how a demon and an angel ended up in bed together, with the angel pressing gentle lines of kisses across the demon's neck. Both comfortable in each others arms.

And somewhere, in a place outside of time and space, God celebrates.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: As the footnotes appeared to have majorly failed (sorry!) I've tried implementing them into the text in a different way, which hopefully was still readable.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are much appreciated, but there's no pressure.


End file.
